


Scenes From an Italian Restaurant

by SentimentalBoy18



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Bonding, I promise this wont just be sad, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Immortality, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Minor Original Character(s), Other, Post-Movie: The Old Guard (2020), Team as Family, Torture, immortal gay husbands accidentally becoming dads, it just has to start sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SentimentalBoy18/pseuds/SentimentalBoy18
Summary: Immortality without hope is a curse. Immortality with hope is a gift. Immortality as a child is a wildcard. Nicolo comes across such an enigma in his own dreams, seemingly as a subconscious manifestation of guilt. But, as the dreams become more real and are shared amongst the rest of his immortal family, he realizes that he is witnessing an immortal's worst nightmare - prolonged imprisonment for the greater good. Extracting the child from a lab is easy. Extracting him from himself is a whole different challenge. Nicky quickly begins to realize that the child's trust lies heavily with them, putting himself and his husband in a position they never expected - fatherhood. The family must adapt to nurture their newest addition as they continue to fight for a world they've pledged their many lives to. Joe and Nicky must come to learn what it takes to put the broken pieces of a young child and new immortal back together.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 45
Kudos: 73





	1. The Visions Before

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I honestly don't know if anyone is going to be interested in reading this, but it is something that won't get out of my head. I have plans for the first few chapters, just to get the story set up. But then I think it is going to be snapshots of Joe and Nicky learning to parent their new kid and the rest of the family being able to bond with each other and the kid. I kinda like the idea of doing a crossover with some futuristic fandoms later, but I just really want to get the feel for these characters (both the Old Guard characters and the one I've created). If anyone wants to suggest little snapshots, I'm totally open to ideas. Either way, I hope that you enjoy it if you decide to read this! Please leave me a comment or something if you have suggestions or anything!
> 
> The title is from the song Scenes from an Italian Restaurant by Billy Joel. I feel like that song's vibe really represents the entire spectrum of feelings and situations and stuff that I'm going for. The good, the bad, and the ugly, y'know?

### Chapter One - The Visions Before

### 

It always began with a dizzying sensation, as if the world had tilted quickly on its axis.  
Then came the lights, the tunnel back to his body that always returned Nicolo from the familiar hands of death. But this time, it did not return his spirit to his mortal form. Instead, it turned him into an observer, an outsider in the life of another. He was at the side of a child, first as a little babe. Auburn locks, wavy and thick with the pale skin common of such a complexion. Bright blue eyes, full of the sort of innocence only a baby can maintain.  


But suddenly, the eyes went glassy, signifying the end of a truly guiltless life. He felt the sorrow that he could only imagine the parents would feel, watching their future fade away as quickly as it came.  


Then, the baby shudders to life once more, his time in the unfeeling confines of a hospital incubator. Nicky stood above this cradle, hoping to see someone come to care for this squealing, terrified babe. But nobody comes and the room remains dark and cold, the only lights coming from the controls on the device providing clinical care. It all felt so unreal, so fuzzy. The dreams he had of his family before they found one another were sharp. He _felt_ as they did. He _felt_ them die. But he simply observed this child from afar, unable to comfort the child or bear some of his pain.  


This first dream jolted Nicky from his slumber, the sheets soaked with a cold sweat. Joe had woken soon after, prepared for danger with the violence of his lover’s jolt. Instead, he was greeted with his husband’s shivering form, curled in on himself as he cried silently. Nicky had asked if his husband had seen a similar vision to him, as their dreams were so often shared. Unfortunately, pulling on that thread led to nothing but more questions. If Joe and the others had not seen this child, was he even real? Was he remembering this all correctly? Was his subconscious torturing him, reminding him of the guilt brought upon himself in his past lives?  


While the answers refused to reveal themselves, Nicky continued to dream of this child over the years.  


Instead of remaining alone, the child now had visitors. Men and women clad in stark white lab coats and latex gloves, observing the child with loveless stares. There were no parents or loved ones to speak of, only doctors and scientists treating the baby as a test subject. Nicky found his presence among them, without any physical form to be spoken of. He was helpless to watch as they tested upon the little boy, Injections, extractions, constant examinations. The baby wailed, distressed by the procedures being forced upon it, but the sounds were simply ignored. In an attempt to keep him silenced, one surgeon even removed his vocal cords, but they simply grew back.  


Many times, the child died. And every time, he rose again, much to the delight of his captors. Nicky watched as the boy’s bright eyes dimmed with each passing day, exhaustion wearing at such a delicate creature in a way that made Nicky’s heart squeeze with only the pain a child’s suffering could cause.  


And each time, they still felt completely foggy. Joe began to theorize, as he comforted his shellshocked husband, that these dreams were Nicky’s way to deal with their capture and Booker’s betrayal. It had only been a year since they banished their brother to a century alone, the man’s worst nightmare. While Nicky kept his feelings close to his chest, Joe knew that Booker’s actions stung. Joe had expressed himself, had made his anger and sorrow clear. But Nicky remained quiet and logical, keeping himself in check. So, a subconscious response to the personal tragedy seemed reasonable.  


Nicky didn’t have a better explanation, so he accepted his husband's as gospel.  


As the years went on, the child grew, as all people do. That is what convinced Nicky that the vision was one created by his mind. Immortals always seemed to stop aging after their first deaths, but this child grew as any mortal would. Nicky assumed, then, that this child was meant to symbolize his helplessness at the hands of his captors, the fears he had for himself and others in that godforsaken lab. As the boy grew, the tests the lab coats performed on him became more intense, more harmful. Physical trials and purposeful killings and surgeries performed while he was still awake. Nicky bore witness to it all, the painful ‘what if’s that could have been all too real if Nile hadn’t had her change of heart.  


The child eventually stopped crying on his own and his eyes went dark when the pain started.  


Joe became increasingly more worried about these dreams as they continued. Nicky simply shrugged him off, reluctant to repeat the dreams as they doubled and tripled themselves. They weren’t daily, or even monthly. But every single one left Nicky feeling as lost and terrified as the baby’s first cries were.  


" _That’s the reason we fear capture…_ " His husband had never been more correct than the moment he uttered those words to their sweet sister Nile.  


Joe suggested he share his dreams with the rest, but Nicky refused every time. His dreams, his demons were his own. He could see the pain in Joe’s eyes as he explained the suffering he saw behind his closed eyes, he felt the guilt that flared in his chest with each word spoken on the subject. He couldn’t subject the rest of his family to his nightmares as well, regardless of their willingness to bear it. Their worry would only make his sorrow heavier.  


Nine years after the beginning of Nicky’s visions, they changed suddenly.  


Instead of a frosted glass obscuring his view, the veil between his soul and the creations of his mind was gone. He was no longer an observer, but a part of the narrative. He _felt_ the boy’s pain. He _felt_ the boy’s sorrow. He wished to cry out as one with the child, but his mind felt the blocks put up by the boy. Bright lights flashed through the darkness, strobing through his view as he felt himself being wheeled down a hall.  


Wherever the destination held a burning pain, administered yet again by cold latex hands. What started sterile ended up soaked in blood. The boy’s life faded, then returned, but the pain did not cease. It never ceased.  


The four immortals awoke in tandem, the distress in the air of the small safehouse almost palpable. Nicky looked over each one of their faces and knew. Yusuf’s, twisted in a pain only his gentle soul could feel. Nile’s, covered in tear tracks as she searched desperately for meaning in the haunted expressions of her elders. Andromache’s, set with a grim sense of understanding.  


“What… What…?” Nile tried between gasping breaths.  


“The boy is real,” Nicky murmured, fighting the rising tide of nausea at the terrible realization.


	2. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, guys! I am so not used to getting that much support for a story right off the bat. I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart for any and all support. Honestly, if your eyes just glanced over that first chapter, I thank you. Despite my sparse profile, I have been writing fanfiction for years, but I hardly ever nut up and actually post one, so seeing all that positivity makes me feel so warm and fuzzy. Lately, I have been having serious writer's block and been feeling like everything I write is a mess, so by all means, feel free to give me tips and suggestions.
> 
> So, my writing style tends to change ever so slightly when I write from the perspective of different characters. If you feel like some of the characters are totally OOC or something, please don't hesitate to let me know and give suggestions. I am always trying to get better, especially when using the voices of established characters.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think!

### Chapter Two - Aftermath

A unique understanding of the situation at hand came crashing down on Joe as his eyes flicked over to his husband’s tortured gaze.

All of the late-night conversations, shed tears, and hushed assurances came into focus as he moved his gaze to Nile and Andy, both of which were looking at Nicolo as if he had sprouted a third head.

“You’re sure?” Joe asked, the answer already becoming quite clear to him as he watched his love’s steady hands tremble.

“I am… It was him. It was the rooms I’ve seen before.” Nicky confirmed, already reaching over to the dusty bedside table to hand Joe his notebook. “Nondescript lab coats. The-The burning felt chemical.”

“No, wait, hold on. What do you mean he’s real?” Nile interrupted, refusing to leave the elephant in the room unaddressed. Joe raised his eyebrows and let out an exhausted sigh, opening his sketchbook and beginning to draw what he had seen. Sunken cheeks, wispy hair, long eyelashes over blue eyes. Under normal circumstances, he might be more willing to speak for his quieter half. But this was something Nicolo had wanted to be kept between the two of them. Joe had practically begged him to mention it, at least to Andy.

Everyone had noticed the bags growing beneath Nicky’s eyes the past few years, one of the few human faults their bodies allowed them. He was quicker to doze off, crankier when he awoke. Typically, Joe was the monster in the mornings, but more and more often, Nicky had taken up the mantle. The rest of their family weren’t stupid, they knew something was wrong. Andy had even come to him in private, asking if there was anything she could do to help Nicky. Joe had shaken his head and assured her that he was doing everything possible. And that much was true.

But it was just never enough.

The dreams always returned and they never failed to scare the living daylights out of his sweet Nicolo. All Joe could do was hold his husband tighter and offer a warm cup of tea and an ear, the latter being denied more and more often as the years went on. Nine years of these night terrors, seemingly based in his own mind, only to find out that they were painfully real for some young boy out there.

But Joe realized that his place in this story, however important it may be, was simply a supporting role. The rest was up to Nicky. So, he sketched in silence as his love found his words.

“I’ve dreamt of the boy before. The first time he was just a baby. He died after being born but came back. He was… not with his mother or father, but in a dark room. It was… It was like I was watching from outside. It first started a few months after everything with Merrick and Booker… I thought I was just struggling. But it never stopped. Tonight, though… This was the first time I’ve dreamt as him, as the boy. Until now, I didn’t think he was real.”

“Did you know about this?” Andy turned immediately to Joe, giving him her steeliest glare. More than anything, Joe knew Andy hated being kept out of the loop. Not knowing was the basis of their entire existence, so Andy made sure that she knew everything else.

“... Spousal privilege prevents me from testifying against my-”

“Cut the shit, Joe! Did you know?” 

“Yes. He knew. I asked him not to worry the rest of you.” Nicky spoke up. “As I said, I did not believe there was a reason for concern.”

Andy released an exasperated huff, nodding silently to herself as she ran her hands through her hair. Her newfound mortality seemed to create an added layer of stress, especially in high-stakes situations like these, so Joe found himself unsurprised when she waved them both off to go take a seat in an armchair. He saw right through the titanium demeanor she showed them all, instead noting the doubt and fear she felt each time she added a new weight to her shoulders. She did not fear death. Rather, she feared putting the rest of her small family through her death, especially without every loose end tied up neatly. And a new immortal was the most unpredictable loose end one could imagine.

Nile, however, stepped up to the plate with a few questions of her own. “So, if this kid died as a baby… why is he older than that when we saw him?”

“I do not know,” Nicky replied truthfully. “I have seen him at many stages in his life. It seems he is being kept in a lab and tested on like Merrick attempted to do with us. I don’t see any faces but his.”

“And this has been going on for nine years?”

“Yes.”

“Nicky… You can tell us these things. You aren’t a burden.” Nile scolded gently, leaning forwards to rest a hand on Nicky’s knee. Joe smiled lightly to himself. The woman had tried to close herself off at first, to seem like she was cold and unfeeling. It was understandable, given the sudden shock of realizing that no matter what happened to you, you would endure far beyond anyone you had ever known. However, it didn’t take long for her to show her true colors. She was hopeful and compassionate. More than that, she was far faster to love than hate, which was something Joe couldn’t help but admire. When another would get frustrated or angry, she became concerned. It was a rare talent, one that seemed to be in short supply, regardless of the century they inhabited.

“I know,” Nicky told her, placing his own hand over hers. Joe knew he didn’t truly believe it, not as he should.

“Is there anything else you know about this child? Anything that could help us find him?” Andy asked, standing up with a renewed sense of confidence. Even mortality could never slow a force of nature like Andromache.

“Everything was nondescript… But the tests they’d run were similar to the ones Merrick’s doctor did on us.” Nicky offered, sparking hope behind Andy’s eyes.

“Then we start there. We see if anyone involved in that project is still alive. Especially that doctor.”

#### ~xXxXxXxX~

Three weeks.

It took three weeks to finally track down Meta Kozak to a laboratory in Sweden. Of course, Joe couldn’t have cared less about the devil woman herself. No, as the days dragged on and the dreams became more detailed, all he and Nicky cared about was the child in their clutches.

The boy had died sixteen times since Joe had first seen him, at least from what they could tell. Nicky said that was typical, but Joe couldn’t imagine that being normal. Or, more accurately, he could but he really didn’t want to.

“We don’t leave the doctor alive,” Andy instructed as the group pulled up about two miles from the compound. “She’s taken this too far. We shouldn’t have left her back at Merrick’s. We fix that _today_.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Joe answered, resituating his tactical vest as he stepped from the car.

The group of four walked silently across the darkened landscape, Nile leading the group with Andy at her six. The formation was slowly becoming more familiar, given Andy’s mortality. In fact, they all found themselves shielding Andy from a hail of bullets when it became necessary. Andy was learning to be more careful, but every one of them would rather die a hundred times over than give the enemy the chance to even bruise her.

The large cement building was far quieter than Joe expected. They always were. The evil in buildings such as this one was never loud, never too obvious. The atrocities were committed in secret, beneath mountains of excuses and alibis. No matter the country, no matter the century. Joe would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel extremely jaded. He would have given up long ago if it weren’t for his family, a constant reminder that the world also held precious things.

He hoped they would be saving something precious tonight.

Breaching the building was easy, as always. There were about a dozen armed guards to contend with, but it made Merrick’s lab look like a cakewalk. No, the real challenge was within the halls of the laboratory.

There were six rooms, not just one. Rooms One through Five were set aside for none other than Joe and his family.

They were assigned numbers in the order of their births. The rooms were sparse, including only a cot for sleeping and a security camera in the corner of the ceiling. The flashing red light notified them that it was, in fact, recording. Joe figured it never stopped.

There was a Subject Six, who was presumably the child they were looking for. The only difference between his room and the others was a mess of crumpled sheets and an IV bag stand containing a clear solution, most likely nutrients. Joe shuddered as he remembered the gnawing hunger in the child’s stomach.

“Guys! I found the lab!” Nile called from down the hall, shaking Joe from his gloomy thoughts. He turned on his heel and hustled down the hall, ready to leave this house of horrors.

Joe was the last to enter the expansive room, wincing as he registered what was before him.

The primary purpose of the room was clearly a surgery theater, with a sterile metal table and precisely organized tools. However, off to one side, a reclining chair with restraints cast a shadow over various objects more suited for torture than medical needs. A hacksaw, a vast array of syringes, and electrodes connected to a fucking car battery. The chair itself was stained with old blood that nobody had bothered to clean up. On the opposite side of the surgical area was a suspiciously normal-looking exercise set up, including a punching bag, treadmill, and various instruments with which they could monitor the user’s progress. Added to the entire equation, however, those seemingly mundane pieces of equipment became just as sinister as the rest.

Joe closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and shuddering at the scent of bleach that accompanies it. Opening his eyes, he could see similar expressions mirrored in Andy and Nile, though the tears the latter was wiping away were unmistakable. His heart wept for her as it did for whoever else may have witnessed this room, a culmination of all the evils of humanity.

Glancing around for his husband, he saw Nicky slowly approaching a…

A fucking dog kennel.

A dog kennel sized for a large canine, that instead held the young boy that had been inhabiting his dreams for the last three weeks and his husband’s for the past nine years. He was smaller than Joe expected and far bonier than he ever wanted to see another person, let alone a young child. Wrist bones pronounced, cheekbones jutting from sallow skin, rib bones in clear view as they knit themselves back together beneath his skin.

“Fuck…” Andy murmured, her voice far more vulnerable than Joe could remember hearing it. Nile simply tightened her grip on her gun, biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt to keep herself calm.

But Nicky, in all his divine grace, was crouching down near the child, as if nothing were wrong. Ever the picture of elegance and grace and _compassion_ as he whispered gently to the trembling form of the newest immortal.

“Non ti faremo del male… Shhh… We’re not here to hurt you. We want to help you.” Nicky murmured in his softest voice, slowly disarming himself and sliding his weapons backward across the floor to Joe, who scooped them up easily. The child simply sniffled in response, quiet as a mouse. “I am going to unlock this for you… Okay?” With that, Nicky deliberately reached over, unlatching the cage and releasing the child.

“Nicky…” Andy muttered, tensing ever so slightly as the child crawled out hesitantly, looking around for the catch.

“It’s okay, Andy.” Nicky reminded her pointedly, keeping his eyes fixed on the child as he attempted to stand on stiff legs. He stumbled once, then twice, but Nicky caught him both times. The harmless gesture caused the boy to flinch, but more out of instinct than actual fear. Finally, he made it to a standing position.

Then, piercing blue eyes locked onto Joe and the others, surprisingly analytical for someone so young. It was as if he were sizing them up, attempting to determine if this opportunity were one that could be trusted. Andy offered a small nod, the kind that somehow felt warm despite her somewhat prickly exterior. Nile gave one of her winning smiles, casually wiping her tears on the sleeves of her jacket. Joe offered a warm expression of his own, crouching down to the boy’s level in an attempt to seem less intimidating.

Realization bloomed in the child’s eyes and he looked back to Nicky for confirmation, pointing to his own temple with a shaky finger. Nicky nodded in reply, tapping his own temple. “You’ve dreamed of us, yes. And we’ve dreamed of you,” he explained. “It’s how we find one another in this world. We find one another and protect one another."

The child nodded, then pointed to Nicky alone and then to his own temple.

“Yes. We’ve dreamed of each other far longer. I do not know why, but I did not know you were truly real until they dreamed of you too. Forgive me.”

He shook his head, leaning heavily on the surgical table for support as he stumbled due to the effort. The message was clear. _No need._

“What’s your name, little one?” Nicky asked, the gentle lilt of his voice soothing the sorrowful tension in the room. It made his heart swell, seeing his wonderful Nicolo comfort such a pained soul in a way only he could.

The child shook his head, confirming Joe’s suspicions. A child, torn from his mother directly after birth and put into a lab has no name, only a number. Subject Six.

“We shall solve that soon. Can you take me to anything the people keeping you here find important? Papers or files? We must know what they do here." Nicky smiled softly as he received an affirmative nod. "My friend Nile will watch over us, okay?" Another nod.

Nicky backed up and stood slowly, turning and heading over to Joe, his face hardening with rage burning deep inside. He casually took his weaponry from his beloved, leaning in close and whispering one simple request accented with a kiss on the cheek.

“Make her suffer for all she has done, Habibi.”

“Of course, Amore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Non ti faremo del male" - We won't hurt you. (Italian)
> 
> I try to cross-reference and check all translations I do in order to make them correct, but alas, I may fail. Feel free to let me know if I do. I am a dumb-dumb that can hardly speak English as it is.


	3. Hazy Window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This updating speed is so not normal for me. I blame all of you for your nice comments and encouragement lol

### Chapter 3 - Hazy Window

Subject Six wanted to make sense of this. This needed to make sense.

But it didn’t and it couldn’t and it shouldn’t.

The nice man was not supposed to be real, but now he was. And he had friends. People to help.

Help is good and the nice man's face didn’t look like a lie.

Then Subject Six remembered the burning in his veins, the chemicals that gave them more time, that made him as they wanted him. The pinpoint wounds in the crook of his elbow and how every one hurt more than the last. 

No more, no more, no more.

No more.

The nice man, the one from his dreams who whispered and seemed warm. He used that same voice, the one that made Subject Six feel lighter than ever, and he opened the cage. For the first time in a long time, Subject Six could stand and stretch his legs, despite their shaking. They always shook.

He always shook. Could the nice man help him stop? Help is good.

“What’s your name, little one?” the nice man asked. Subject Six shook his head, prepared for the dizzying angle the world took on when moving so quickly. Could the nice man stop that too?

Subject Six knew that people had names. People had names so that other people knew how to call them, how to communicate. But Subject Six had no idea why the nice man would think he would have one of his own. People had names, Subject Six did not. That meant Subject Six was not a person.

Why didn’t the nice man know that?

“We shall solve that soon. Can you take me to anything the people keeping you here find important? Papers or files? We must know what they do here.” The nice man could give a name. Would that make Subject Six a person? He didn’t want to be a person. People hurt things like Subject Six, they created the burning and the bleeding and the Dark Place.

But if the nice man was a person, maybe he could be okay with people.

Subject Six nodded, hoping that the nice man wouldn’t hurt him like other people did.

“My friend Nile will watch over us, okay?” the nice man spoke again and this time, a woman behind him smiled and nodded. Her face was like the nice man’s, soft and comforting. Subject Six thought that someone who looked like the nice man would be safe too. So he silently agreed, flicking his eyes between the two as he decided.

The nice man walked away for a moment, speaking to the man with curly hair. They both looked meaner when they thought Subject Six couldn’t see. That would usually make him nervous, but every other person would look mean at him. They didn’t do that, so Subject Six decided to keep helping them.

If Subject Six could become a person, maybe he would understand how the mean and the nice could fit inside the same person.

The nice man returned as soon as the curly-haired man and the quiet woman left, taking out strange objects as they did. The objects looked like ones that had caused pain before, but bigger and in different shapes. Subject Six was just happy the people kept them from hurting him. All the other people let them hurt him and asked questions after. Sometimes, they even let the objects send him to the Dark Place. Those were the worst times.

The woman called Nile took out her own objects but headed towards the door. Subject Six figured she was doing what the nice man said she would, watching over them. The nice man came back to Subject Six, putting his own objects away and giving him that warm look again. He felt the tightness leave his muscles, just like it did when he saw the man in his dreams.

“Can you show me now, little one?” he asked hopefully. Subject Six nodded and stumbled towards the end of the room, the part he never got to see. He pointed to the door with the hazy window and the nice man reached forwards, opening it as Subject Six had seen so many times before. He had never been allowed to do such things. Only people were allowed to open the door, to go inside and see the Secrets.

When the nice man stepped inside and waved him in, Subject Six shook his head lightly, leaning into the wall when the world spun. He was not a person, he was not allowed to go in and see the Secrets that the people put in there.

“It’s okay, piccolino. You’re safe.”

Was the nice man trying to make him into a person? What for?

Subject Six stepped through the door, almost expecting to be thrown out by some unseen force. But nothing happened and Subject Six sat down on the floor as the nice man began to look in a big metal box, taking out the papers and files that must have held the Secrets. The nice man looked at the Secrets as if he understood them, but did not like them. The meanness was on his face again, but not pointed at Subject Six. Could someone point meanness at the Secrets?

These people were not like the others that Subject Six had seen. Those people were easy to understand. These people did strange things and treated him strangely.

But the strangeness didn’t hurt or send him to the Dark Place. That was not like the other strangenesses he had seen.

The last strangeness Subject Six had been shown had seared his insides when he had drunk it. It had looked like a mixture of the things they put in the needles that kept him alive. A little darker, but not scary. But as soon as he drank it, he knew that the strange drink was not good. It burnt in his throat and down into his stomach. Then it came back up, along with blood. Subject Six had cried as the drink sent him to the Dark Place.

The people let him go to the Dark Place three times until they stopped the drink from hurting him. Then, they put their papers and files where all the Secrets go. Subject Six had curled in on himself in an attempt to avoid the sickness on the bottom of his cage and fallen asleep. Going to the Dark Place made him more tired than all the running and training.

“Shhhh….” the nice man whispered, moving to where Subject Six sat on the floor. It was then that he realized the thoughts about the strangeness had changed what he was doing. He let out scared little noises as he rocked lightly, curling in on himself like he had that day. “I know, little one… They did terrible things to you here. They hurt you like they have hurt us before. That is why we are here to protect you, to take you home.”

Protect? Home? Those were strange words that Subject Six had never heard before.

A different memory, one that was not his own, came to mind as the nice man admitted people had hurt him too. In his dreams, the times he would see the nice man and the things that had happened to him. They were hazy, like the glass hiding the Secrets, but some pictures appeared in his mind.

The nice man and the man with the curly hair choking on strange air and being taken to a moving metal box. Going to a place like this one, the one where Subject Six was. They were both held down onto chairs and the woman who hurt Subject Six hurt them, took parts from them. Then, the picture moved outwards, showing not only the nice man and the one with the curly hair but also the quiet woman and a different man.

Could people be treated in the same way as Subject Six was?

If they were treated that way, did that mean they would not treat him that way?

He really hoped so.

The words from the memory came back to him, sounding in his head as though they were happening in real-time.

_“You think I go too far? That I am unethical?”_ The woman who hurt Subject Six spoke to the nice man as she hurt him the same way.

_“I would say immoral.”_

_“I believe this can change the world.”_ She holds a piece of the nice man in front of him, just like she did to Subject Six when he used to cry from the hurt.

_“A fine justification. I’ve heard it so many times before.”_

“A fine… justification. I’ve heard it so many times before..” Subject Six repeated, his eyes darting up to look at the nice man, hoping he would understand. If he understood, maybe Subject Six would not get hurt. The words didn’t sound quite right coming from his own mouth. They didn’t line up the same way, as they sounded in his mind. They felt strange coming from his mouth, as if they weren’t meant to.

The spark in the nice man’s eyes showed first a cloudy look, like he had to think. Then, they were warm. He nodded and gave him that nice look again, the one from the dreams. “Yes, little one. Exactly. Would you like to come with me?”

“I would like to come with you.” The words again were not his own, but Subject Six meant every single one of them. He wavered slightly, his muscles unwinding far more than usual, like when someone had put the sleeping medicine in him. But nobody had. He knew that for sure.

The nice man must have seen his eyes droop, as his next question was, “May I carry you home? You are safe, you can sleep.”

Subject Six nodded, his eyes sliding closed before he even managed to feel himself being gathered up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "piccolino" - little one (Italian)
> 
> I know this chapter might have sounded hella disjointed, but that was kind of my goal? I wanted to represent Subject Six's confusion and anxiety and just general unease with the writing. Please please please let me know if it doesn't come off like that and instead just seems like I word vomited into a document and posted it under the label of "Content". As always, thank you for the feedback!


	4. Comfort

### Chapter 4 - Comfort

There was only one chore in Nile Freeman’s entire mass casualty trainwreck of a life that she hated more than cleaning the bathroom (which she had just done that morning). That chore was taking watch in the middle of the night. And, as the senior citizens slept, she was stuck awake on the couch with nothing to do.

Eventually, after years of waiting as an immortal, every single pastime managed to get boring at one point or another. Right now, she found everything astoundingly dull. Music had grown old, she had read every book in this particular safe house, and she always managed to fall asleep to any of the late-night TV programming.

So, she sat quietly and counted ceiling tiles. Around tile number 345 (or was it 344?), a stirring from the couch reminded her of their newest addition, curled up under a blanket on the couch.

His breath came in short gasps, his dreams bringing forth some terrible memories. Nile didn’t even want to guess what he was thinking about. That child had been through more pain than she ever wanted to consider. After almost a decade as an immortal, she had already died in more ways than the Marines could have prepared her for. The experiences were overwhelming as is, but at least she had support from her fellow immortals when she woke. This child had been left alone in a cage and killed repeatedly, then tested on. For nine years. The very thought made her stomach clench.

Nile made sure to keep her movements slow and steady as she approached the shivering bundle on the couch, much like Nicky had in the lab. She wasn’t sure if her help would be welcome, but at the same time, her heart couldn’t take watching this little boy suffer. She touched his shoulder lightly, causing his eyes to shoot open as he scurried to the opposite end of the couch. He curled in on himself, eyes wide and frightened as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Hey.... I’m sorry, honey.” Nile soothed. “You were having a nightmare. But you’re safe here.” She shifted a little further down the couch, leaving him more space to relax in.

After a few moments of scanning the room, the boy seemed to calm slightly, remembering his rescue. His eyes settled on Nile and he nodded jerkily, confirming that he understood. Nile smiled in response, letting some of the tension melt from her form as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked genuinely. That question had been asked of her so many times as she was adjusting to her mortality. Still, when the occasional nightmare popped up, somebody was at her bedside, offering their own personal version of comfort.

Joe’s comfort was in the form of muttered phrases and gentle gestures. Half the time, she couldn’t even tell what the oldtimer was saying to her. She hadn’t fully grasped a conversational understanding of Italian or any of the other dozens of languages the immortals knew. But the intention behind the words was clear and she was quick to fall asleep.

Nicky was the one who asked for an explanation. Most of the time, Nile would offer it. But the few times she just didn’t want to relive whatever horrific death she or someone else had suffered, he simply nodded and stood, leading her off to the kitchen for some soothing herbal whatever-the-fuck that he somehow made delicious.

Andy was a little more uncomfortable when it came to offering comfort, but she managed to come through when it counted. She would come and sit on Nile’s bed. The first time she had done it, Nile had assumed she’d ask about the dream. Instead, she asked Nile what she liked to do in her free time. That had thrown Nile for a huge loop. Andy was the most prickly of the group. She wasn’t unkind, but she wasn’t a talker either. When Nile had sheepishly mentioned that she enjoyed shitty rom-coms as a teenager, Andy had chuckled, but then suggested an older film to put on. They had been about a half-hour through the movie when Nile realized that the warrior woman had pulled out some sewing, blindly working with the fabric and thread in the dark. When questioned, Andy had pointed out the fact that it has been a valuable skill throughout history. While Nile couldn’t argue that logic, she also found she couldn’t stop herself from laughing every time Andy’s fingers slipped and cursed the needle’s sharp point.

All of this comfort and Nile was unsure of what her own style would be. But she figured there was no time like the present to learn.

The boy shook his head, instead choosing to stand up on unsteady legs. Nile prepared to catch him if he fell, but the kid held his own as he started to wander the room. The look in his eyes told Nile that everything around him seemed foreign, unreal.

“Strange…” he murmured hoarsely, uttering the first word she heard from him.

“What’s strange?”

The child simply gestured vaguely to his surroundings. A typical living room was alien to the little boy.

“If you have questions, all you have to do is ask.”

He looked at her, a hint of childlike curiosity sparking in his eyes. He immediately went over to an object and pointed, looking at Nile.

“That’s a television. You can watch things on it. I prefer movies, but Joe likes sports.” Nile explained. She mentally kicked herself, realizing that this child probably has no idea what some of the things she just mentioned are. Before she could explain, though, he had dropped down to look through the cabinet beneath the TV set, rummaging through and pulling out a DVD case. He held it up, eyes inquisitive.

“That’s a movie, like the ones I mentioned before. It’s like a made-up story.” she explained, somewhat proud of the kid for putting two and two together. For all his anxiety, he was just as quick-witted.

He seemed thrilled with himself too, placing everything back where he found it before heading over to his next discovery. He chose another item and pointed it out.

“That’s a radio. You can listen to music on it. I can show you sometime tomorrow when we won’t wake the others.” That elicited an excited nod from him before he moved on once again.

Nile made a mental list of all the objects the kid noted. Candles, books, plants, paintings, the fridge, the freezer, the carpet, the fireplace, et cetera. All things that most kids would inherently understand. It would have broken her damn heart if he hadn’t been so excited over learning about all of the new things. His joy, though, just made her happy to be there to help him.

Creating this joy was her version of comfort and she truly loved it, despite the painful ache in her chest.

After about an hour of pointing and explaining, the little guy looked bone tired. His eyes drooped as he drifted back towards the couch. As he got closer, he began to look a little more hesitant, eyes downcast like when they had met him.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Nile asked patiently, keeping her gaze on him soft.

He pointed to the couch. She had already explained that one to him, but she could tell it wasn’t confusion eating away at him this time. He seemed nervous, scared even. As if something bad were to happen if he didn’t tiptoe as though he were walking over broken glass.

“The couch, yeah? What’s wrong with the couch?” she asked carefully, looking around for some sort of explanation.

“Can I?” he asked quietly, bringing his hands in to fidget at the bottom of his shirt to expel nervous energy.

“Of course, man. You can sit on the couches and the chairs and the beds. I promise.” she responded, attempting to keep the surprise and hurt out of her voice.

It was then that Nile vowed to destroy Dr. Kozak and everything she stood for. Her research and samples and ideals were going to burn. She wouldn’t stop trying until they were all ashes and she could never do anything like this to anyone. Ever.

The boy smiled, his remaining nerves creeping into the expression as he crawled back into his place on the couch. He grabbed the blanket (also a new concept) and pulled it over himself. He glanced at Nile, silently questioning if he was using the item as it was meant to be used. She plastered a smile on her face and nodded, confirming that he was completely correct. After that, it didn’t take long for the child’s breathing to level out as he drifted off to sleep.

As soon as she was sure he was unconscious, Nile felt her resolve crumble. She hung her head in her hands and let the quiet tears fall, bringing her knees up to rest under her chin. She cried for the years of childhood this baby lost. She cried for the horrors that stood where fond memories should. She cried for the family that believed their wonderful baby was no more, while he slept next to her. She cried because she was scared she couldn’t handle this.

She cried for the little boy with no name in the laboratory.

Nile was unsure how she mourned before she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. She looked up, sniffling lightly and wiping her eyes messily, only to find Andy and her sad smile.

“Shift change,” she said, coming around to the other side of the couch as Nile stood.

“Okay….” Nile mumbled, clearing her throat lightly and shuffling off towards the bedroom. As she laid down in the empty bed, she took note of the digital clock at the bedside table.

2:48 am. Nowhere near the 4 am shift change.

That was Andy’s form of comfort and Nile appreciated it deeply as she settled herself beneath the blankets and fell into a well-deserved sleep of her own.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I am not a science person, but I also love science if that makes any sense. Basically, all the things I know about science come from the internet, but I try to make the science I use in the story at least somewhat feasible. It's partially my brainchild and part based in reality. If I made a big dumb-dumb mistake or something, by all means, let me know. Enjoy!

### Chapter 5 - Welcome to the Human Race

Andromache the Scythian, as a traveler through both time and continents, had seen many things the world had to offer. The good, the bad, and the ugly. She had watched people die in atrocious ways and seen lives saved by the simplest of means. She had most likely forgotten more stories through the ages than even the most skilled writers and artists could ever portray. And, still, she always looked for more. She wanted to continue learning, to continue to allow the world to surprise her. It made her feel young. More importantly, it made her feel human.

So it was no surprise that she decided, as she kept watch over her team, to start on the files that Nicky had retrieved from the laboratory. They were numerous and extensive, including just about every medical fact regarding the child now in her care. But, as expected, it included very little of his personal attributes.

>   
>  **ALIAS:** Subject Six  
>  **SEX:** Female (Male Presenting)  
>  **REGION OF ORIGIN:** Cork, Ireland  
>  **AGE:** 9 years old  
> 

And, beneath that sparse description of the human soul, was the long and creative list of ways they managed to torture him. They experimented on him with anything they could think of. Drugs, chemicals, surgeries, hormone adjustments, and physical trials. These files only included the disgusting acts these so-called scientists committed that could be disguised as tests in some way or another. There was a whole other group of files including the ones that were torture, pure and unbridled. Andy didn’t think things like this could make her sick anymore, but she got damn close as soon as she found the photographs.

The first was a series of pictures of the child cut open for dissection at various stages of his life, starting as a baby and ending as he was now. Apparently, they had found nothing through this, because the notes under each picture became less detailed as the boy grew.

The photos were of the boy beaten and bloodied, in various stages of healing. Andy could hardly count how many bones they had broken before the boy had died and his body had caught up with the damage. The long-time immortal felt her own bones ache at the sight. He only looked to be about six years old in the picture.

Rubbing her eyes furiously, she tossed that particular file aside before she had the chance to flip to the next photos. There would be time later for such things, for mourning what the child had been through. For now, they needed to understand what they were up against with the boy’s physical condition.

Another file and more revelations. They had attempted to understand his gender nonconformity both as to its own aspect and as a possible factor in his immortality. They had asked him questions, hoping a little four-year-old boy could explain concepts that brought even the wisest adults to their knees. His answers had been insightful, for a child so young and inexperienced in the ways of the world. But, they eventually reached a dead end. A theory was posed as Dr. Kozak finished her notes. She believed that, at some point in the child’s long life, he will change his gender identity as society shifts. Andy wondered to herself why it mattered, why the doctor even bothered to mention it. She wouldn’t live to see it and it wouldn’t change anyone but the kid himself.

She tossed that file aside too, sighing to herself as she picked up one more, most likely the last one she’d be able to handle for the time being. It contained information on the child’s nutrient and medicinal intake. Andy let her face fall into her hands as she took a steadying breath after reading the first part of Kozak’s summary.

They hadn’t actually fed the kid. Ever.

He received nutrients via an IV bag when they wanted to ensure he would not die of starvation, but beyond that, he was left to waste away. They had found, through numerous observations of the child’s starvation, that an immortal’s body uses any fat or muscle supplies possible to bring them back, regardless of what a typical human body would be able to handle. By the time they had grown tired of starving him, his muscle mass had become extremely low. The doctor noted that most people would hardly be functional in such a state, but the immortal body continuously endured. After their experimentation, they'd kept him on an IV for extended periods of time to replace what they had taken, as if it was simply a matter of physical discomfort.

Included with this information was a section titled “Age Manipulation”. Though Andy found the entire concept horrifyingly, she pressed forward. As it turns out, they had discovered around the child’s first birthday that he was aging far more slowly than the average person did. While they could not put a timeline to the process, as there weren’t enough benchmarks and milestones for fucking immortality, they did realize that their experimentation would be somewhat lackluster without some cooperation that an infant simply could not provide. So, she had solved a problem by creating a chemical cocktail that allowed them to simulate typical human cell damage faster than his body could heal it. Thus, the boy aged even when he should have remained younger. Another theory of the doctor’s was that the child would stop aging around age 25 if allowed to mature normally, but would do so at an extremely slow pace. Even the genuinely interesting facts in these things were tinged with morbidity.

“Some light reading material?” a voice asked, dark humor toying at the edges of his tone. Andy smiled bitterly to herself, tossing the file down with the rest.

“Oh yeah. Joyful little stories from a perfectly normal childhood,” she responded, rubbing her eyes yet again.

Joe moved smoothly over to the table where Andy had deposited the files, leafing through them casually. He got the gist of the situation, especially when he reached the photos. The sadness in his eyes made Andy’s heart twist. She tried to bear the pain for the rest of them, she tried to shield them. Sure, they were all old, but she was the oldest and she tried to be the basis for something good. But she also knew it was naive to hope that there could be good without the bad to balance it out.

It didn’t mean she didn’t try.

“What kind of sick fuck does this to a child,” Joe mumbled to himself, sighing deeply as he sat down in an armchair.

“Welcome to the human race,” Andy answered wryly.

Andy felt a pair of eyes on her and looked to her left to see the kid awake, eyes bright despite the early hour. “Hey, kiddo.” She said with a slight smile, hoping she wouldn’t scare the kid. She knew she could be a bit… intense. But she hoped that shred of self-actualization allowed her to tone it down, for the kid's sake.

He waved shyly, between Andy, Joe, and the files on the table. It didn’t take long for him to put the situation together and he curled up a little tighter, unsure. She mentally cursed herself for leaving that shit out in the open, quickly gathering up the files. “Sorry, kid… You shouldn’t have to see those.” she apologized, tucking them back into the messenger bag.

The boy shook his head, silently waving off the apology. Andy gave him a curious look as she saw a look of deep contemplation cross over the little one’s face. After a moment or two, he opened his mouth and spoke to Andy for the first time. His voice was rough around the edges, but far stronger than she had expected from someone so young and so _frail_. “Do you understand them?” he inquired from his hiding place behind his blanketed knees.

“Yeah… Yeah, I did.” she answered carefully, uncertain as to where this conversation was going. Joe leaned forwards in his seat as well, his eyes tracking the child’s movements with the sweet look he gave Nile when she woke up drowning in Quynh’s fate. The child had made his mark on both Joe and Nicky, that much was becoming clear.

“Do you still… want me?” he asked hesitantly as if the words did not come naturally to him. She wondered at what point he had decided that communicating with his captors was useless, instead vowing to stay silent. It must have seemed easier than trying to beg for mercy from someone who barely understood the concept.

“Want you? Of course, little one. What they have done is not a blight on you or your soul, but on theirs. They are to blame for your suffering, not you.” Joe explained, his eyes clouding over with that deep sadness mixed with burning fury. Andy glanced at him, giving him a thankful smile. Joe had a very special kind of fire, the kind that fueled everything he did. It made his words far more passionate than anyone she knew. Even when she did not know how to express herself properly, he could put words to that storm. She both valued and envied that quality in him.

“What he said.” Andy agreed, “You’re one of us. That means that we are going to help you get better and keep you safe from anyone that wants to do something like that to you.”

The boy nodded, his shoulders sinking lightly as he relaxed. His knees stayed pressed tightly to his chest, but progress was still progress. Andy smiled softly, standing up and stretching her arms and legs. “Well, I’m going to go get started on breakfast. Then, we need to have a family meeting.”

“Sure, boss,” Joe agreed absentmindedly, already turning on the TV. Andy smiled back at him and the kid, who seemed enthusiastic about the device. Jesus… The number of things this kid had never seen was almost unnerving to Andy.

As always, though, there was no time for discomfort as Andy headed off to the kitchen to put together a breakfast from their meager pantry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! I know that there wasn't much that happened in this chapter, but I kinda felt it was necessary to show the team stopping and taking stock of what they had walked into before they continued forward. The next chapter will definitely have more to take the story forward, so stay tuned!


	6. Take on Me

### Chapter Six - Take on Me

Subject Six had grown tired of looking for the trap. If it was his fate to suffer at the hands of seemingly wonderful people, he readily accepted the consequences of his actions. They could do anything to him and he’d still thank them endlessly for the few hours of rest they provided.

He would eventually meet his end at their hands gladly if it meant he could spend five more minutes in their gentle care.

So, instead of shying away like his initial instincts instructed when the quiet woman placed a warm drink with a straw in front of him, he grabbed it greedily. The nice man placed a hand over the cup.

“Drink slowly, little one. Otherwise you’ll become ill.” he instructed patiently, earning an understanding nod from Subject Six. He then removed his hand, allowing Subject Six to take his first sip of what the quiet woman had introduced as broth.

It was heavenly, tasting far richer than anything the scientists had ever bothered to provide him. The warmth from the cup radiated throughout his body and Subject Six vowed that he would do anything to prove his worth to the people who had taken him home.

That’s what the nice man had called it, home. But, Subject Six realized that he was still unfamiliar with the place or the people. “I don’t know your names.” he experimented with speaking up, shrinking ever so slightly as their eyes all settled on him.

“My name is Nicolo.” the nice man spoke up first, “But I am usually called Nicky.”

“And I am Yusuf. More commonly known as Joe.” the curly-haired man continued, a warm smile spreading across his face. Subject Six didn’t know that someone could look that kind.

“Andromache the Scythian. Or Andy.” the quiet woman stated, poking at the food on her plate with a metal object. Subject Six made a mental note to ask more about those things later.

“And I’m Nile. Just Nile. I haven’t been alive long enough to receive titles.” That comment brought grins to everyone’s face at the table and Subject Six couldn’t help but join them.

“And now, little one, we need a name for you.” Nicky prompted. “Personally, I was considering Dante.” Subject Six mulled over the idea for a moment, but then Joe spoke up, his mouth full of food.

“Dante…. As in ‘everlasting’. A bit on the nose, don't you think?” he teased, earning a nudge from Nicky.

“Fine, smart guy. What’s your suggestion?”

“Connor. Or Cedric.” he supplied.

“I like Connor.” Andy offered with a shrug.

“Any ideas, Nile?” Joe asked, turning everyone’s attention to the woman as she held up her hands in surrender.

“Hey, hey, hey… Don’t look at me, I haven’t got centuries of names stored up here.” she tapped her temple.

“C’mon, try anyways.” Andy encouraged and Subject Six found himself nodding, leaning forwards in his seat.

“Umm… Milo?” she offered half-heartedly.

Silence fell around the table as each person looked casually towards Subject Six, awaiting his verdict on the names suggested so far. The child nibbled his lip as he considered the options in front of him. Most people did not seem to be given the chance to name themselves. As far as he understood it, people received their names when they were born, usually from a mother or father. He didn’t know who laid claim to that role all those years ago, but he knew that this moment was just as vital. This was his chance to become a person. At first, he had thought that the nice man, Nicky, was going to make him into a person. But, as he looked at each person in front of him, he saw that he couldn’t have been more wrong.

These people were giving him the opportunity to make himself a person.

For some reason, they saw value in him beyond being Subject Six. They saw him as a part of their home, even after such a short time. The way Nicky had comforted him, understood what he meant. The way Nile had helped him learn about all the strange things in the rooms they inhabited. The way Joe had told him he was safe in their presence. The way that Andy had provided for him, had given him something to drink that was warm but didn’t burn or send him to the Dark Place. All of this only furthered his belief that, even if these people were to betray him, he’d face his fate with open arms if it meant he got just one more moment of this.

“I want… to be Milo.” he finally stated, looking at each one of them with a hopeful expression. He wanted this to last, he wanted to make himself a person and stand amongst them… He wanted to be like them, no matter the cost.

“Then Milo you shall be.” Nicky agreed.

Subject Six closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing slowing as he accepted the mantle. He allowed the feeling, the understanding that he was now a person of his own, to wash over him. He felt pride as he understood that he had created personhood himself, something that those he knew before convinced him was impossible. Something that he had allowed himself to believe was impossible. The swell of emotion, full of joy, sorrow, fear, pain, and everything in between, threatened to overwhelm him, but he held on by a thread, knowing that there were onlookers he wasn’t willing to crumble in front of. Maybe one day, but not today.

Milo opened his eyes for the first time, taking in the four pairs of eyes trained on him, their expressions patient and kind.

“I’m Milo.” he introduced, concluding the trade of names between them. It earned smiles from every one of them. Milo nodded confidently and sipped again at the drink before him.

“Well, now that we’ve settled that… We need to think of next steps. Kozak is still out there and she is bound to figure out who came for Milo.” Andy explained, looking over her audience as she spoke.

“So, what do you suggest?” Nile asked, leaning back in her chair.

“First of all, we need to move safehouses. It won’t take much for us to be found here and we need a secure, quiet place to get Milo used to his new life.”

“Where are you thinking?” Joe inquired.

Andy sighed, thinking deeply for a moment before answering. “I’m going to get a hold of Copely. Find ourselves somewhere new, somewhere that will be harder to trace back to us."

“Do you trust him with that information?” Nicky spoke up, his tone suggesting discomfort with the person in question.

“It’s been a decade and he’s kept his word. Normally, I wouldn’t consider his involvement necessary, but it’s a calculated risk we have to take. I’ll straighten it out with him, then you, Joe, and Milo will get a move on.” Andy determined.

“Wait, just the three of us?” Joe asked. “Where are you two headed?” He pointed between Nile and Andy, confusion clouding his features. Milo glanced at the two in question. Nile seemed to be just as confused as the rest, but Andy had a cautious expression on her face.

“With Kozak still out there, it’s dangerous for any one of us to be out in the open. Nile and I are going to retrieve Booker.” Andy answered firmly, but the tension in the air following her words was unmistakable.

Joe looked as though he were about to say something, but Nicky placed a hand on his chest to silence him. “Nile, would you please take Milo into the bedrooms, maybe try to find him some new clothes? Joe and I would like to discuss this further with Andromache.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. C’mon, Milo.” she agreed, quickly whisking Milo away from the table, making sure to grab his forgotten cup of broth as she went. Milo let her herd him into the back bedrooms, where the rest of them had slept last night while he was on the couch. He figured that the large mountains of blankets and pillows must be what normal beds looked like. They were quite similar to the one he occasionally got to sleep in at the lab but… far more soft and welcoming. He paused for a moment, glancing up at Nile. She gave him a reassuring nod and he climbed up onto one of them, reminded of their conversation the night before. He was welcome to settle into beds.

It wasn’t long before Milo could hear raised voices from the other room. They weren’t exactly shouting, not like the scientists would do when he refused to do as they told him, but their tones were full of emotion. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it seemed important. Joe was by far the loudest and full of anger. Andy kept her voice level but attempted to speak over him. Nicky attempted to provide some balance, but it was clear his true feelings were far closer to Joe’s than Andy’s.

“Did I do something wrong?” Milo asked hesitantly.

“No, no, honey. Not a chance.” Nile assured him. Milo nodded, taking the information in. He wasn’t a likely cause, anyways, as the conversation had shifted away from himself. But it was better to ask than to wonder.

“Why are they angry, then?”

“Andy… She brought up a difficult subject. Something that Joe and Nicky find hard to talk about.”

“It makes them upset?”

“Yes. Very upset.”

“Oh… Why did she do it, then?” Milo questioned. It made no sense to provoke discomfort and anger when there was an easy way to avoid it. Discomfort and anger could so easily change to meanness in people…

“Because it is something that is important to her. When Andy finds something important, she stands up for it.”

“Does that make people be mean to her?”

“Sometimes, yes. But not Joe and Nicky. It’s safe to bring these things up with them because they love her.” Nile responded, sitting down on the bed across from Milo.

“Love?” Milo asked, frowning in confusion as he did the night before, pointing out the strange objects.

“Oh… Love is hard to explain. But… It’s this feeling that you get when you care a lot about other people. You care about them and trust them and feel safe around them. You want to protect them and do anything you can to make them happy.” Nile spoke with hesitancy as if she had to create the definition in her mind as she spoke it. Milo nodded, still a little confused. It made some sense, but he got the feeling that there was more to it than that. He vowed to ask the others at a later time.

“Do you love them?”

“I do.” she smiled.

“Do you love me?”

Nile giggled, nodding her head with enthusiasm. “That I do, Milo. That I do. Now, let’s see about finding you something new to wear.”

Milo settled back against the soft pillows on the bed as he held the steaming broth close to his chest, taking another small sip as he watched Nile glide about the room. He couldn’t be sure yet, as he didn’t fully understand what Nile meant about love, but he was fairly certain he loved all of his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE FINALLY HAS A NAME! I had a very vague idea of how this would play out, but I am actually super happy about the results. Plus, drama with the concept of bringing Booker back. Writing Milo's brain is kinda fun, ngl.
> 
> If you wanted to know what song I was listening to when writing this chapter, it's a-ha's 2017 acoustic version of Take on Me. It's such a different, super genuine tone as an acoustic song and I love it with this chapter. I already have a whole Spotify playlist of songs that I feel are a good fit for Milo. If you want a link, I'll totally post it! I just find music is really complimentary when I'm writing, so I figured I'd offer it in case anyone found it to be interesting.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and feel free to let me know what you think! I appreciate you all so friggin much.


	7. Sins of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I am so sorry this took forever to get out. My life kinda temporarily went to hell in a handbasket and my inspiration plummeted. But, I felt good tonight and I finally finished this chapter. I apologize if it's not up to snuff and I am totally willing to hear suggestions. I am going to try and get my mojo back now that things are maybe kind of not terrible irl lmao

### Chapter 7 - Sins of the Past

“You must be out of your goddamned mind!” Joe hissed, standing up from the table to pace back and forth across the tile of the kitchen. Nicky took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was about to be an extremely unpleasant conversation.

“I’m not, Joe. But thanks for checking in.” Andy responded, her tone as uninterested as it was sarcastic. She leaned back in her seat, waiting for the inevitable challenge that was soon to come out of Nicky’s husband.

“No, no, I think you might be! Because otherwise, you wouldn’t be suggesting reckless plans at a time such as this.”

“Joe, sit down.” Nicky requested tiredly. This discussion would go nowhere if Joe and Andy ended up at each other’s throats. It had happened many times in the past, but this was far different than those times. It wasn’t an issue of morality or a battle plan or built up pet peeves over the centuries. This was about the harsh sting of betrayal, the pain that Booker felt fit to inflict on his family. It was about the healing process. Andy was willing to forgive and to move past this. But Joe? His pain was still fresh as the day he was dealt it.

And Nicky… Well, if he was being honest with himself, he was still angry too. While the pain was not fire within his belly as it was with his beloved, he still felt the weight of the betrayal drag on him every single day. It was an exhausting weight that he bore, but it was also one he was unwilling to let go of. Ten years for an immortal was merely the blink of an eye.

The most hurtful part of it all was the lack of thought towards Joe and Nicky’s fate. Book had considered Andy and her desire to leave a world that she no longer felt she could impact. He hadn’t had a chance to consider Nile, as he was completely unaware of her existence until after the deal had been made. But he had looked at Nicky and Joe and simply decided that worrying over their wellbeing was not worth a thought. That hurt Nicky more than anything. He would have done anything for Booker, that had never been a secret. But now… He wasn’t sure the man understood the damage he had done.

“No, Nicolo, I cannot just stand by and let her compromise us like this!”

“I am not suggesting that you do. But coming to blows over this will not solve the conflict before us. Please, sit down.” Nicky explained. This seemed to defuse the situation somewhat, as Joe slowed his movements and dropped back down into the kitchen chair he just vacated. Nicky nodded appreciatively, then turned to Andromache.

“Booker can take care of himself. He is capable and intelligent. He will be fine.”

“He’s also completely unaware of the threat.”

“Unless he’s working with the threat.” Joe pointed out in frustration.

“He wouldn’t.”

“He has proven otherwise, Andromache. There is a reason we cast him out.” Nicky spoke up. “Now, I understand your remaining concern for him. If I had forgiven him, I would feel the same way. But we have a child to think of now. If we are captured, so is he. Our goal is to heal Milo, not simply give him company in captivity.”

“I hear you, but he’s a part of this. In any other situation, I’d respect the banishment, but this is different. We’ve got a big outfit gunning for us, all of us. Regardless of what he’s done, he’s one of us.” Andy responded evenly.

“The whole point of the banishment is that he is _not one of us right now_. He’s lost that right!” Joe exclaimed, poking one angry finger into the table.

“He was grieving, Joe. You can’t say you don’t understand.”

“I don’t! I have never, ever considered throwing you all to the wolves because of the conflicts I have seen! I would never look at you as if your fate didn’t matter so long as I got what I wanted!” Joe cried out, Nicky’s heart squeezing as he heard the sorrow hidden in his love’s anger.

The silence that surrounded the three of them made Nicky’s skin crawl. It was deafening, bone-chilling. Joe had stated a truth that could not be unspoken. Nicky couldn’t be sure if it was the overarching truth, if it was the one that both Booker and Andy subscribed to. But, to Nicky and Joe, it was the only thing that properly explained the actions of their brother. Neither man was prepared to let go of their pain, not yet.

“I understand, Joe. This… It hurt Nicky and you far more than it did Nile or me. And I wish… I _wish_ there was some way I could numb the sting and make everything okay. But I can’t. I understand that you two are not ready to forgive yet. And I am not suggesting we completely negate the banishment. I am simply suggesting a temporary truce to ensure all of our safety. You’re angry, but can you sincerely tell me that you would willingly give him over to Kozak and her team of sadistic fucks?” Andy reasoned, leaning forward and placing her hands over Joe’s. Joe looked down at his lap, then over to Nicky with a questioning gaze. Nicky knew his husband was beginning to see reason and he was looking for confirmation that he wasn’t being too soft. That look, the nerves written across his beloved’s face, never failed to drop Nicky’s heart into his stomach. It made him wish for a life where neither of them had to worry about their compassion hurting them in the future.

Nicky nodded to his husband with a sigh. Joe returned his gaze to Andy, the strength and pain all too clear in his eyes. “You need to make sure he is not working with the people pursuing us. There is a child at stake now. If you have any shadow of a doubt, you do not bring him into the fold. If he will risk our security, you do not bring him home.”

“Of course.” Andy agreed, her gaze intensely thankful as she glanced between two of her oldest friends. “Only if he is innocent.”

The three nodded, relaxing in the quiet of their mutual understanding.

**~0o0o0o0~**

As the barren countryside became a blur, Nicky drove quietly through the early morning mist as he listened to the sounds of his beloved discussing the minutiae of reading and writing to Milo. The boy seemed to be a never-ending fountain of questions, but Joe’s patience for children was eternal.

“Why not just talk to people?” Milo asked. “It’s easier to talk.”

“It may be easier, but sometimes talking is a luxury people cannot afford. Before the telephone, Nicky and I would have to write to one another when we were separated.”

“How long ago was that?”

“To a normal human? Very long ago. To someone like us? The blink of an eye.”

Nicky could practically hear the devious grin in Milo’s voice. “Does that mean you’re both super old?”

“Yes, little one. And you will be too, one day.” Joe teased.

“Where are we going?” he asked after the briefest of pauses. Nicky was beginning to wonder, much to his personal amusement, how he had ever thought this child to be quiet and unassuming.

“To a new place where we will be safe,” Nicky responded. “But first, we must take a plane there.”

“What’s a plane?”

“A big metal tube that flies. I’m fairly certain it’s possessed by demons.” Joe piped up, earning himself a playful jab from his husband.

“Do not listen to Yusef, Milo. There is no need to fear a plane. It is perfectly safe, Joe is simply a wimp about flying.”

“Am not!” Joe argued passionately.

“Yes, Habibi, you are.”

Milo laughed lightly in the back seat, drawing a smile to Nicky’s face. Glancing over at the love of his life, he saw a similar expression spread across those heavenly features. Yusef would make a good role model, a gentle and compassionate father figure to a child that never dreamed of such tenderness.

Nicky only hoped he could keep up.

“Why are we going somewhere else?” Milo inquired, shifting lightly in the backseat.

“To protect you. You will need some time to adjust to the world. It can be overwhelming. We are also looking for the people who hurt you, who hurt all of us.” Nicky explained.

“Is that why you and Joe and Andy were fighting?”

“.... Not exactly.”

“Was it about someone named Booker?”

“Dio mio, child. Your hearing is impeccable.” Joe huffed, more to himself than anyone else.

“Yes. Booker is an old friend. We have not seen him in a while and we did not part on the best of terms.” Nicky kept it vague, unwilling to completely spoil the child’s view of a man he had never met.

“Nile said it was something important.”

“Nothing you must worry yourself over.” Nicky insisted.

After a few minutes of silence from Milo, Nicky glanced back to see the talkative child fast asleep, his head resting gingerly against the door of the car. “I think that was the most intense interrogation we’ve ever been through,” Joe commented, earning an amused snort from his love.

“I am inclined to agree.” Nicky sighed, “But it is refreshing, being asked simple questions about the world.”

“I am inclined to agree,” Joe answered, smiling cheekily.

Hardly a moment later, Nicky glanced over to see Joe asleep in the passenger seat, head perched against the seatbelt as he snored softly. 


End file.
